


Together We Made 50

by shinealightrose



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Kids Sekai, M/M, Multi-generational, Old Men Xiuhan, Single Daddy Tao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5010580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightrose/pseuds/shinealightrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minseok and Luhan have already spent a lifetime together. Now they dwell in an assisted living retirement community, passing away the time while their children and grandchildren come to visit. (Xiuhan as grumpy old men; multi-generational Exo characters)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together We Made 50

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something random that captivated my imagination. Forgive me, lol. I just wanted to see them live into old age and still be in love.
> 
> Warnings: Bittersweet, Mentions of Character Death

“Mr. Kim?”

There’s a soft knock on the door, a not-so-soft voice behind it. “Mr. Kim, are you awake? Decent?” There’s a chuckle accompanied by that. “May I come in?”

“Come in,” calls Minseok, mentally rolling his eyes at the ever persistent joke. It’s too much work to do that though. He settles for opening his eyes, eyelids heavy from his afternoon nap and his body barely wants to move. He’s sat in this chair for too long.

“You’re awake, I see,” says the nurse.

“If I wasn’t before, I am now,” Minseok grumbles. He’s tried acting intimidating but Baekhyun refuses to be cowed by his old man ways. One day he’ll get old and terrorize the youngsters. Minseok pities the next generation because his nurse is already a trickster. “What makes you think I’m not ever decent, anyways? I’m always decent. Not like those crazies in the other ward.”

“What crazies?” says Baekhyun. “We’ve got no crazies here. Just me.”

Minseok clacks his tongue, refusing to approve but finding it funny nonetheless.

“Anyways,” says the nurse. “I seem to remember you’re expecting visitors today. Son and grandchildren, yes? Can I help you with anything before they get here?” He smiles, work mode turning professional, because he knows Minseok gets embarrassed still by asking certain things.

“Yes, that’s right. Zitao and his boys are coming later.” Minseok closes his eyes briefly, smiling thoughtfully. Baekhyun waits patiently next to his arm chair, hands folded in front of himself.

“Could you help me over to the shower chair. I think I can do that part myself. I just need to get there first.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Kim. Can I set aside some clothes too for you?”

“That would be nice. And a warmer sweater too for when it gets cold later? Please? I don’t want to bother Luhan for it. He’s taking a nap.”

“Let me lay all that stuff out for you, and then I’ll help you to the shower.”

“You’re a good kid, Baekhyun. Does your mother know that?”

“I try to remind her how perfect I am every day, Mr. Kim, but she only laughs at me. Perhaps I’ll have you give her a call one of these days.”

Minseok chuckles, a slow rumble that doesn’t quite make it to a full laugh. He waves at Baekhyun though who’s already standing before the side-door that leads to the bedroom, quickly stifling his mirth and transforming it low hush. “Quiet…” he reminds the nurse. “You don’t want to wake him up. He’ll get grumpy and then I’ll be grumpy.”

Baekhyun holds his finger over his lips to prove his worth. “Wouldn’t dream of it!” he whispers.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Half an hour later Minseok collapses into the chair beside his bed, huffing as he shrugs to pull on a cardigan two sizes too big. He struggles by himself for a minute or two. His fingers can never quite get the buttons through their loops anymore.

There’s a yawn from the bed beside him, Luhan waking up. He doesn’t say anything for a while. Rather he rolls around, tossing a bit until he’s flipped over on top of the comforter and peering through sleep-induced eyes at Minseok.

“Was that Baekhyun I heard earlier?”

“Yep,” Minseok replies. “How was the nap?”

Luhan sighs, almost happily. “Not long enough. Throw me another pillow so I can sleep more.”

“You always were a bum.”

Luhan doesn’t even take offense at that. “So were you.” He curls up again and closes his eyes, opening them again only a minute later. “You’re getting dressed.”

“Yes.” Minseok is almost finished with the last button, but then he gets to the bottom and finds he’s one slot off. “Damnit,” he grumbles. Luhan chuckles beside him.

“Looks like you missed a loop.”

“I know. I know. I see it.” And slowly, sighing deeply, Minseok starts to unbutton all the too-tiny beads so he can start over again.

“It’s Sunday,” he tells Luhan after a while. “You planning to get up?”

“Nooooo.” Luhan whines, yawning again. “Why?”

“Visitors.”

Luhan wipes his eyes awake with the back of his hand. “Zitao?”

“Yes. And the boys.”

Luhan hums contentedly. “That’s nice.”

There’s silence in the room, Luhan still laying down and Minseok aggravating himself with buttons. Afternoon sunlight filters through the lopsided mini-blinds on the other side of the room. Minseok wonders if he should ask Baekhyun if he can get some new ones. Probably he could if he just paid for it, but then his son-in-law foots most of the bills and he doesn’t want to add another burden.

“How’d you end up with such a nice son-in-law anyways?” Luhan reminds him, like he always does.

“Zitao? I’m miraculously blessed.”

“I mean, he’s not even obligated to visit. Your daughter doesn’t even visit, and yet he comes every week…”

“I’m sure it’s because of the kids.”

“Well, there’s always that. But still. You don’t deserve him,” Luhan scoffs and laughs.

“No? Well, I didn’t deserve you either but I got you anyways.” Minseok’s nose starts to burn because it’s incredibly true. He and Luhan might be stuck here in assisted living with a meddlesome nursing staff, but he’s still inordinarily blessed.

“You’re so beautiful, Minseok,” Luhan purrs randomly.

“Shut up. I’m old. You don’t have to flatter me anymore. I already know I used to be beautiful,” he grumbles. Luhan is laying on his side, eyes still bright even though his face too is wrinkling.

Minseok keeps on grumbling. “And before you get on a tangent about how my life is wonderful because I’m blessed to have you, don’t forget that your son visits too. And quite frequently.”

“Mmmm. Okay so I - we- are doubly lucky in life. Minseok, you and I are the best. It’s such an honor sharing this corner of a nursing home with you.”

“I’m going to repeat myself: shut up. And this isn’t a nursing home. It’s-”

“Assisted living. I know, I know.”

Minseok finishes up the last button, pleased that this time both sides of his cardigan actually match in length. “Okay, I’m going to the garden area. You coming with me?”

“If I feel like it.” Luhan stretches his arms high above his head.

“Alright. Meet me there if you feel like it. Now, where’s my cane?”

“Right beside you, silly. And before you ask, because I know you will, your glasses are on a chain around your neck under your sweater.”

Minseok tries not to peek down, because he does feel stupid and he doesn’t want Luhan to know it. He’d been missing his glasses ever since he got out of the shower, and he was wondering what that strange ovular shape messing up the front stretch of his cardigan had been. “Okay…. here we go then.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Zitao parks the car, adjusts the rear-view mirror so he can see into the back seat, and clears his throat loudly in hopes that will begin the wake-up process for his youngest boy. Beside the sleeping child, five-year old Jongin is already awake and rubbing his eyes.

“Are we here now, daddy?”

“Yep. We’re here.”

“Daddy, Sehun isn’t awake yet.”

“I know. We’ll just have to wake him up then.”

Jongin rattles the three-year-old’s arms and whines. Sehun’s eyes barely flicker when he starts to wake, confusion over his surroundings being the first cause for alarm.

“Come onnnn, Sehunnnnn, I want to go and see Grandpa Minseok and Grandpa Luhannnn. Wakeee upppppp.” He’s halfway to a tantrum in his urgency to get out of the car, and Zitao exits quickly before that can happen. He fetches Sehun from his car seat, hefts him over his shoulder, and unbuckles Jongin from the booster seat. Hand in hand with his oldest, Zitao crosses the parking lot towards the assisted living facility he was obliged to move his father-in-law into just over a year ago. It had been less fussy a process than it might have been. Once upon a time Minseok and Luhan had their own little house which they kept up meticulously. Frail age and health, however, changed that. Minseok hadn’t really wanted to move, but he did. Only because Luhan agreed that was best.

His father-in-law is approaching 70 this year, and Zitao already has enough of a burden being a single father of two.

They run into Baekhyun in the lobby who quickly greets the frequent visitors and directs them to the garden area. “I just wheeled him out. He’s a bit shaky and tired today, but I wouldn’t fuss too much.” He smiles at Zitao, tweaks Sehun on the nose when Zitao turns around, the child still half asleep with his head buried in the side of his father’s soft dark hair.

“Dad!” Zitao calls out when he sees the older man. His heart always aches when he sees him like this, gray-haired and feeble. He wore himself out with his career sooner than he should have, but then Minseok was always a frail-looking man, even when Zitao first met him. It’s been now two decades since that happened, when Zitao was eighteen and first fell in love with his daughter Sohee.

“Zitao…” says the man now. “You made it. And... who is this, huh?”

Minseok turns instantly playful when Jongin races over, begging to crawl into his lap, and even Sehun starts squirming to be let down.

“Grandpa!” the oldest is squealing. He succeeds in getting permission to climb up, peppering him with hugs and shy little kisses, already fully into a funny story about something that happened in Pre-K this week. Sehun pads up too, a little late to the party.

“Woah, son,” says Zitao, scooping the boy up before he too can mash over his elderly grandpa. He sits down on the bench right next to Minseok’s chair and bounces Sehun on his knee where at the very least, he can touch his grandpa’s arm and receive cute gummy smiles. They haven’t changed over the years.

When he first dated Sohee, Minseok took Zitao under his wing since he had no other family living close by. Together with Luhan, they became something of a foster family, and Zitao was just happy to fit in. Unfortunately though Minseok was nicer than his daughter. When Sohee broke up with him and flitted about dating other people, Minseok kept in touch.

“Long day?” asks the old man now, as if Zitao looks more tired than Minseok probably feels.

“Not too bad. Kids were hyper this morning but they slept in the car some on the way here.”

“Daddy’s taking us out for hamburgers tonight!” Jongin tells his grandpa confidentially loud.

“Hamburgers, huh?” says Minseok with a perky smile. “Sounds delicious. You know Grandpa Luhan use to grill good hamburgers.”

“Did he??” squeaks Jongin. “Where is he??”

“Ohh, back in his room probably. Maybe you can go visit him a little bit.” Minseok squints his eyes, enticing Jongin into a game. “Get him to wake up and quit being a bum.”

“Okay, grandpa.”

Sehun still looks put out that he doesn’t get to sit in Minseok’s lap, and so Zitao asks Jongin to get down so he can trade the boys out. The older one never stops chattering, although he does finally quit long enough chastise his younger brother for being a mopey, whiny baby.

“How’s your wife?” Minseok eventually asks over their heads.

“Ex-wife? Dad, you remember.” Zitao teases him in an overly chiding way, unable to keep a smile off his face inspite of the subject.

“Of course I remember,” says Minseok flustered. “How couldn’t I remember. I just… said the wrong word. Let me try again: how’s my daughter? Have you seen her much? Does she visit the kids?”

“Once a week usually,” Zitao answers flippantly.

He tries not to bad mouth Sohee in front of their children. She came back to him years after their first break-up. Zitao was always around her dad anyway, and it seemed a dream come true when she decided Zitao might just be good enough for her after all. Their brief marriage put Zitao officially on the same family registry as Minseok. It also granted him two sons, but aside from the men in his life, Zitao couldn’t manage keep anyone else, his wife to be specific. Sehun wasn’t a year old when she decided she wanted to leave again.

“Daddy, Sehun’s falling asleep again,” Jongin tattles suddenly. “He’s falling asleep on Grandpa Minseok!”

“That’s alright, Jonginnie,” says the old man cradling the three-year old. “He can sleep here.”

“But, he’s wasting time and he’s not even saying anything!” the oldest whines.

“Hey, hey,” Zitao interrupts. “Don’t be rude.”

“Do you want to go look for Grandpa Luhan?” Minseok suggests.

Jongin still looks annoyed, but he says, “Okay,” before wandering off.

“Don’t go too far!” Zitao warns him, looking slightly concerned.

Sehun sighs happily and burrows deeper into his grandpa, mashing the elder one’s ribs a little in the process. Minseok winces slightly, and Zitao reaches a hand out to stop his son for being too fidgety.

“No, no. That’s alright. He’s fine here,” says Minseok instead.

It’s the fall season and there aren’t too many flowers left blooming in the garden area and grounds. Still it’s a nice shady area, not shabby at all for the community. By most accounts, his father-in-law had adjusted well to the new environment. There were always other people around, older men and women, some couples, some widowed, some who’d never married at all. Baekhyun told Zitao once that Minseok had a few other friends, one old-timer in particular named Chen who was apparently the terror of the community, especially with a cane. Mostly though Minseok was reclusive, and that was due in part to Luhan who never seemed to leave their small set of rooms.

In Zitao’s memory, the two had always been together. Luhan was some sort of distant cousin of a friend to Minseok’s ex-wife. They’d apparently met at their wedding and become friends thereafter, but if that seemed awkward to anyone, by all accounts they didn’t start ‘seeing’ each other until several years after his wife left. Minseok and Luhan were both thirty-five and Sohee was two years old. Luhan had a son of his own who lived with his mother, but the nucleus of their family consisted of Minseok and Luhan and Sohee, and Zitao later on.

“I hope she’s still nice to you,” says Minseok, obviously still fretting about his runaway daughter. It probably broke Minseok’s heart as much as Zitao’s, to see Sohee act and do the same thing as her mother.

“It’s very civil, dad. And she’s nice to the boys.”

“Good,” he remarks sharply. To Zitao’s horror though, tears begin to form in the creases of his father-in-law’s eyes as he stares blankly across the lawn. They neither of them say anything, although Zitao does put a hand out over Minseok’s arm and holds it there.

From across the courtyard they hear Jongin laughing, and Zitao cranes his neck to see the small boy being play-chased by Chen and his cane. It brings a smile to his face, and Minseok’s too when he discovers the source of the commotion. The laughter is too infectious and after a few minutes Minseok’s eyes are dry. He stares at Zitao, appraisingly proud and smiles with harsh gulp.

“Thank you, son… for coming by.”

“Anytime, dad,” says Zitao with a lump in his throat.

Jongin returns a little while later, sordid tales of Uncle Chenchen on his lips, and he delivers the confidential news that Grandpa Luhan was obviously being a bum and sleeping away the afternoon.

“Oh, that figures. Perhaps next time then,” says Minseok.

Later on, after Sehun has had time to wake up again and love on his grandpa, Zitao packs both of the boys up and say their farewells until next weekend. On his way out, he stops in the lobby where Baekhyun is still roaming around and asks him about Luhan directly.

“Luhan? Oh, he’s still the same. Nothing’s changed much.” He smiles, tells the kids he’ll see them next week. Zitao nods and takes them home.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minseok grumbles as he wheels himself into their rooms. He doesn’t need the chair all the time but for long treks to the garden, he grudgingly accepts that it helps. He locks the wheels, reaches for his cane and hefts himself up. From in the corner of the living area by the window sits Luhan, snoring slightly. Minseok joins him a minute later, sitting opposite his longtime partner in the matching arm chairs they’ve always had. They’re battered now, the fabric on the arms worn down and frayed. Zitao tried to buy a new set several years ago but Minseok threw an absolute fit.

“We’re going to be old and crotchety one day,” Luhan had said to him once, back when they were still in their early forties. “And then we’re gonna love having somewhere to sit and stare at the bird feeder and scream at little kids for walking across our lawn.”

“You mean, you’re going to be the one making little kids cry. I’m going to be the nice grandpa,” Minseok insisted.

“Hmph!” Luhan had raved. “What makes you think I’ll the grumpy one by myself? Probably you’ll be the one hollering at opossums, and I’ll be snoozing.”

Luhan was right on at least one of those accounts.

“You missed the kids,” Minseok tells him. Luhan never sleeps too heavily. More often than not it’s just a light nap.”

“Did I? I’m sorry.” Luhan yawns, fidgeting, looking genuinely sorry. “I did plan on getting up.”

“So you always say,” Minseok gripes. He’s lacking the bite though. Luhan knows he can never really be angry with him. They’ve put in too many years together for that. “Sehun’s getting so big. Three years already, can you believe it?”

“Three years? Wow they get old so fast. I still remember when Sohee was three. Her third birthday party, and she threw a toy at my head.” Luhan chuckles, remembering a fond memory that didn’t used to be so fond. “At least she grew out of the hating phase pretty quick.”

“Remember when Sehun was born?” Minseok changes the subject. “Or Jongin?”

“I don’t remember, or do I?” Luhan teases.

Minseok scoffs. “Probably not. I know for a fact you slept in the lobby the whole time Sehun was being born.”

“What? Well, what else was I supposed to do? It’s not like either of us were allowed in the hospital room for the whole entire time.”

“Grumble, grumble. Come up with excuses, will you?”

Luhan is still laughing. Eventually Minseok gives up the fight, and lets his infectious laughter wash over him. He smiles grudgingly.

Living with Luhan wasn’t always easy. After his wife left there were the inevitable comments from friends and family alike, making assumptions. Incorrect assumptions about just why his wife had left. Was it an affair? Was Minseok always gay? Did Luhan come between them? For the most part too, they just let people talk. It wasn’t like they could stop them, and as long as Sohee was young enough to not understand it was fine.

By the time she was eight, however, her mother was still basically MIA, and the gossip started to reach her ears. Minseok and Luhan left then, moved away to start all over again, and this time it really worked. They bought a house together and Sohee had two daddies, and that was a different kind of stress but they survived.

Luhan was his best friend, and had been since shortly after they met. Both were twenty-five and Minseok was newly married. He’d moved to his wife’s hometown and knew almost nobody there. Somehow he gravitated towards the man, and bizarrely they were considered two of the youngest men in their small circle of acquaintances.

“Such kids you both are!” said an older cousin once.

Luhan had bristled up, petulantly stating that they were quite mature for their ages.

“What. You can’t be older than twenty.” Evidently the cousin didn’t know Luhan very well, or Minseok.

“Twenty?? I’m twenty-five! And if you take me and Minseok together, we make fifty, so I’d like to think that together, we are more mature than you. Hah!”

He always had a bit of a light temper. Minseok loved him for it. Ten years later they were still best friends. Then though they happened to live together. And Minseok never wants anything to change.

“Well, what do you want to do today?” he asks Luhan now.

“I don’t know. Whatever you want to do?” Luhan smiles at him.

Minseok grunts. “You always say I can decide, and then you complain about what I pick out on the TV.”

“Oh, so we’re watching TV today?” His smile grows larger, and cheesier.

Minseok grunts louder. “See, there you go again. Making me decide so you can complain about it.”

“Who’s complaining? Am I complaining? I just want you to be happy, Minseokkie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Who says I can’t call you that.”

“I do.” Minseok grabs the TV remote anyway. He starts flipping through channels, pauses dramatically on one of those soap operas that he knows Luhan detests. It’s just to test him, to see if his silence and acceptance holds. Minseok loves torturing him like this, and Luhan plays along. He zips his lips shut theatrically, focuses his eyes on the TV screen and pretends to be invested in the show.

It lasts for all of five minutes, and Minseok is honestly hating himself just as much right now. Soap operas were horrible programs after all. His grandma used to watch soaps. Heck, his son-in-law sometimes watches soaps. But Minseok and Luhan’s tastes tended to run towards-

“Oh come on! You know there’s a game on somewhere on another station!” Luhan whines out of the blue.

Minseok smirks and refuses to change the station. When he does it’s only to find another soap opera, and Luhan is starting to hyperventilate.

“Minseok… please…” Luhan gives his best whiny voice. “I want to know how my team is doing…”

“It’s a rerun. They played earlier in the day. You could just check the scores online.”

“What, on the laptop you know very well that I can’t use?”

“Fine, fine!” Minseok gives up. He turns the station finally to the sports channel, and Luhan’s favorite team lights up the screen.

Twenty minutes later Luhan is still sighing happily. “Ahhh, they look so awesome in red.” He smiles dreamily.

Minseok practically spits out the drink of water he’d just taken, chortling. “What? Why are you laughing?” Luhan demands to know.

Still laughing, Minseok almost doesn’t have the heart to tell him. “Lu, I think you need to get your eyes checked out. The players in red belong to Arsenal. Man U’s playing an away game.  _They’re_  wearing white.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Several hours later, Baekhyun finds Minseok still in his chair laughing to himself.

“Evening, Mr. Kim. Oh, how was the game?” he asks.

Minseok is still watching the play-by-play highlights, imagining how Luhan would scoff at the commentators praise for the enemy team.

“We lost. Luhan’s devastated of course.”

Baekhyun chuckles lightly as he walks over, arranging a side table next to Minseok’s chair. “I bet he is. There’s nothing worse than watching your team lose. How about dinner tonight? There’s going to be a barbecue near the pool in a bit. Would you like to go?”

"Barbecue? Oh, I wish the grandkids were still here. Jongin likes to go swimming in the pool. Baekhyun, you should have told me before they left,” he chides the nurse.

“But I did!” Baekhyun cries dramatically, pouting while placing his hand across his heart. “Honest, I did! This morning too. Mr. Kim, you must have forgotten.”

“What? I never forget anything,” Minseok stubbornly insists. “Anyways too late now. I’m also not that hungry. Luhan and I had a semi-late lunch. I think we’ll skip a full meal tonight, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Just making sure you were set. And, in that case, I will see you tomorrow. Good night, Mr. Kim.”

“Goodnight, Baekhyun. You’re a good kid, Baekhyun, does your mother know that?”

“I try to remind her how perfect I am every day, Mr. Kim, but she only laughs at me. Perhaps I’ll have you give her a call one of these days.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before his shift ends for the evening, the receptionist passes a message to Baekhyun, too afraid to take the message to Minseok himself. Baekhyun sighs when he reads the scribbled note, although it’s not all that surprising.

_B- Tell Mr. Kim his daughter called and apologized. She won’t be able to come next Wednesday after all._

He scratches his head, already exhausted by the thought of disappointing the old man. Not that Minseok would really remember that his daughter promised to take him out. Perhaps his failing memory was a blessing in this situation. However, Baekhyun still didn’t want to leave it all alone.

“Can you get me the number for his other son, please?” he begs the receptionist.

“Which son?”

“The step-son? I’m trying to remember what his name is. He comes from time to time. You know who I’m talking about? Zhang something or another.”

“Oh. Oh, yes. I do have his number. Want me to get him on the line for you?”

“No, I’ll do it myself. Thank you.”

Baekhyun wants to make sure there’s at least someone who can take Minseok out that day, since he already knows that Zitao is working and will be unable to.

 

 

 

 

On Wednesday morning Minseok wakes up early and putters around doing his normal morning routine. He gets dressed, attempts to fix his hair which has grown sparse in his old age. He slowly manages to get coffee running through the dinky little machine in his tiny niche of a kitchen and winces when he finally gets his first taste of it. It never tastes as good as what he used to drink when he was younger, but now isn’t a time for luxuries anymore. He’s not even allowed to add too much cream or sugar to it.

Baekhyun comes to rouse him, although of course he’s an hour late. He leaves with just the reminder that Minseok will have another visitor today. Minseok smiles at that, but then he remembers what day it is.

“Luhan…” he says to the figure in their bedroom. “Luhan, today is the day isn’t it?”

“What day?”

“That day… the anniversary of…”

Both of them are silent until Luhan says, “Oh. I guess it is.”

“Your son is coming,” Minseok states.

“Is he?”

“Yes. Luhan… Luhan, I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go…”

“It’s fine, baby. You know I’ll be there with you. I go with you everywhere.”

It’s times like this when Minseok misses him most. His emotions are already weak today, but the memory of their whole lives is not enough to keep the tears from flowing. “I know… I know…”

Luhan was his backbone always. Whenever things were tough. The friend who was there when he was dumped, the man who helped him raise his child and loved her as his own.

“You can do it, Seok. I know you can.”

He misses him so much. Being able to touch him and be held by him.

“I know, and I will. But… but Luhan, why’d you have to go away and leave me all alone?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The vehicle stops right on the side of the highway. Minseok opens his eyes blinks a few times. They’re still a bit reddish and it’s late afternoon and the sun is too bright. His body is stiff from the drive, but at least Yixing was always a kind, considerate driver. He doesn’t jostle around so much when Yixing is driving.

“Okay, dad. We’re here. You ready to get out?”

Minseok only mumbles because there’s no right answer to that. He doesn’t want to get out. He doesn’t want to go. He wants to go right back to his room where Luhan is always waiting for him. He doesn’t want to be out here among the trees and and the too nicely manicured lawns, walking with Yixing’s arm around his back among the tombstones.

If Minseok wasn’t only blessed by the years of love and devotion to Luhan, he was doubly, triply blessed by the sons in his life, Zitao who was only related by marriage, and Yixing, who visited often even after his father’s death.

He doesn’t come as often as Zitao, and he has no kids yet, although Yixing always promise that Minseok would meet them as soon as his wife decides to give birth. Minseok is still waiting. He wants to see what Luhan’s grandchildren will look like. He wants to tell him what their grandfather was like.

“Almost there now,” says Yixing, still guiding him across the lawn. “I should have brought your chair. I’m sorry for making you walk all this way.”

“No, no. I want to do this. He’d make so much fun of me for having to use a wheelchair.”

“Would he? I bet you’re right,” Yixing chuckles lightly.

“ _Yeah, you are right,”_  Luhan responds.

They plot they come to is at the edge of the cemetery, partially shaded by a large oak tree with a bench beneath it. It was partly for this reason Minseok picked out the spot. Ten years ago was the ground on one side of it disturbed by the interment. And one day Minseok will lay there too. For now though he has Yixing walk him to bench where he sits down with a hefty sigh and observes the marker before him, like he does every year on the day of his death.

“I’m going back to the car to fetch the flowers. Will you be alright here for a moment?” Yixing asks.

“Yes. I’ll be fine, thank you.”

 

_Here lies Lu Han_

_1945-2005_

_beloved husband of Kim Minseok,_

_father of Zhang Yixing and Kim Sohee_

 

Now alone, he closes his eyes and imagines Luhan as he once was. Not how he is now, only in his mind.

“You missed the kids,” Minseok tells him.

“ _I know. I slept through both of their births._ ”

“Jongin was born five years after you left us. Sehun two years later. They would have loved you. I made sure they know about you.”

“ _They’re great kids. And you are such a great grandfather._ ”

“I’m not that old yet,” Minseok tells him sharply. Even in death the memory of Luhan’s humor reaches out to him.

_“No?_ ” Luhan teases. “ _Well you are several decades from a hundred. I think that’s close to qualifying._ ”

“Smartass. I’m only seventy.”

“ _For now. Hey, remember when we were just kids?_ ”

“Of course I do. You were a little smartass then too. ‘Together we make fifty,’ you said. Well, we did. We made fifty. Why did it all go downhill from there?”

“ _I’m sorry…_ ”

“I miss you.” Minseok wipes a few tears from his eyes.

“ _And I love you._ ”

“I love you, too. Be with me forever?”

“ _As I promised, and that's a promise I’ll keep._ ”

Yixing returns soon after. He lays the flowers before the grave and then sits on the bench beside Minseok. It’s such a peaceful day. Luhan would have loved it. Luhan does love it. It’s better than sitting around the assisted living place. Out here he can be free for a little while, and he doesn’t have to try to explain to people where Luhan actually is, or relay to him everything he says because those stupid people aren’t smart enough to hear him, see him. Not like Minseok can.

“I was wondering if I can get some new mini-blinds in my bedroom,” Minseok tells Yixing. “They’re crooked. Lopsided, broken, or whatever. It’s annoying.”

His stepson laughs again. “That annoying huh? Sure I can fix them up for you.”

“Your dad hates them. They disturb his naptime.”

“I bet they must. He always was a daytime napper. Okay.”

Minseok doesn’t miss the sad look on Yixing’s face when he talks about his dad, the one who isn’t actually here, but for Minseok he is. He’s always here. Everyone always gets concerned about him, but Minseok knows best. He know it’s not as sad. Not as sad as the people who aren’t blessed by Luhan’s presence anymore.

At least Yixing though never thought he was crazy.

“You’re a good kid, Yixing. Does your dad know that?”

“So he always said. You can keep on telling him for me though.”

“Okay, I will. Every day until I die, and then some.”

 


End file.
